Tales Post 11
In Tales Post 11 Iskendriel's Peacekeeper team are on the planet Necrill which lurks close to the Myst Sector, where the Witch-Wardens reside. Beneath the netherlight star the group investigating the disappearance of an Imperium settlement there. Certain it wasn't the work of the witch-wardens, Dusty attempts to read the patterns of fate through Dust but the weaves of fate are knotted due to time-travelling civilisations that once inhabited the world prior to The Imperium. Iskendriel starts to insult those around her and causes a rift to open between her and Girda Heth who doesn't appreciate Iskendriel's nasty attitude. They agree that they will have to go and see Dr Carroll in the town of Kildare if they are to find any answers to this mystery. Post The Peacekeepers The Missing Settlement The planet Necrill lurks at the very edge of the Myst Sector and is an incredibly old planet. Its erratic orbit around its star resulted in the planet zipping off into space until it was eventually caught by a very different star. This incredibly rare breed of star only exists in the oldest regions of the galaxy, formed, perhaps, not by natural means but by some esoteric gods of days long past. This star is composed of netherlight. Instead of warming the planet with brilliant radiance, it freezes the world with its harsh, dim, white light. Necrill still seems determined to rebel against its new captive star as its orbit is ovular and each passing rotation takes it one step closer to escaping off into space once again. Despite the severe cold, the planet is unfrozen. Aside from there being no water to actually freeze the planet is also protected by a thick layer of aether that doesn't just retain heat but actually generates it. The aether itself is what gives the planet any kind of atmosphere, albeit fairly thin. As the light from the star is so dim, the planet's sky is constantly awash with stars rather than any kind of coloured sky. The gravity is also light. Dust and small rocks float up into the air to mix with the aether, creating grimy mud clouds that will, once too heavy, rain rocks down upon the land. Even much larger rocks will hover lazily several metres above the ground. Many of them are snared by plants that have grown down from the hovering stones towards the ground and tethered themselves in place. The plants are usually coloured white, bleached by the cold glow of the netherlight star, and most of them reflect the light back - giving them a luminous haze. ''The Peacekeepers'''' walk across the tundra landscape, stopping occasionally to inspect the area. Though the atmosphere of the planet is enough that they could breathe, it would be a mild struggle that could become tiresome. Coupled with the cold it was deemed better if Girda projects a wide bubble of protection around them. The light golden glow of the dome tinkles whenever a cloud of dust brushes over it.'' Girda: "I get a sense of civilisation everywhere we go..." She seems irritated by this, as though the feelings she is getting are needling her consciousness. Iskendriel just shrugs and gives a short nod. The planet is incredibly old and has been home to several civilisations throughout its long, long life. The first batch of beings to have formed on the planet left the world long ago and in their wake a whole new species had evolved to dominate the world. They then left too, but they decided to create their own little science experiment and tried to encourage life to appear on the world and evolve just as they had. It worked. That species created robots, which, of course, wound up killing their masters and taking the planet. They were then embroiled in a civil war between robots and A.I.s that resulted in the demise of both sides. Other beings came and colonised the world before they were killed by a freak cosmic storm that annihilated all life on the planet. Several species later The Imperium decided to land on the planet and call it theirs. Given the high concentration of aether on the planet, the Witch-Wardens, who operate primarily within the Myst Sector, would return to Necrill from time to time usually to train one of their new members but sometimes they came to get their hands on aether to take back with them. As the Witch-Wardens have been no threat to The Imperium's settlement and the Witch-Wardens laid no claim to the planet - both have left well alone. Nyneve: "We're sure it wasn't the Witch-Wardens that did this?" Iskendriel: "They're not some kind of kingdom, Nyneve. They're like us. An operation. They have a job to do and that job doesn't involve destroying settlements..." Nyneve: "Unless they're magical settlements." Iskendriel: "Was this a magical settlement?" Nyneve: "No." Iskendriel: "Right then. Try not to open your mouth so much, you lower the IQ of everyone in the group." Nyneve: "One day I'm going to smack that smugness right off of your face." Dusty: "I cannot get a clear reading of the threads here. Too much has happened on this world and not all of it has been linear." Iskendriel, who had been crouching and poking at the ground, straightens up and looks over at 'Dusty'. Whatever species he once was, Iskendriel assumes it was, at least, humanoid. His figure is much like a haze of smoke, becoming more tangible around the face and chest while his arms and legs float in and out of their physical form. She had been tempted to call him 'Ghosty' because it'd sound more stupid and, therefore, more insulting but she couldn't escape the fact that he is a child of the Dust. And that horrible fact looms predominantly on her mind. Iskendriel: "You mean there's time travelling at work here?" Dusty: "Yes, but it may have nothing to do with the lost settlement. Numerous sentient beings have been here, from the threads I can tell at least two civilisations that existed here discovered means of time travel. The threads are knotted together, impossible to untangle. I can detect the thread of The Imperium here but its buried in with other threads I can't reach its end." Iskendriel: "Some use you turned out to be. I bring you here just for this one talent of yours and you tell me its useless." Dusty stares at her and she does her best not to falter under the nasty gaze. Iskendriel doesn't fear death but she does fear whatever ultimate fate Dust would have on her. That would be something far worse than death. Heck, she had even met Death once and she turned out to be a lovely little girl. After that death never seemed such a problem. Except for the Coca-ColaCoca-Cola article, Wikipedia.'' can. That part was a bit upsetting.'' Girda: "Your work is greatly respected, Dusty. Iskendriel is mean to you because she likes you." Dusty: "She is?" Iskendriel: "I am?" Girda: "It's basic psychology. She doesn't know how to show her appreciation but knows she is supposed to say something. Being socially awkward she--" Iskendriel: "Since when are you group councillor? Instead of trying to psychoanalyse me - and you are dead wrong, by the way, I'm mean because I'm mean - you should do your job." Girda: "You ask for miracles, Iskendriel. We are mere mortals." Iskendriel: "And here was me thinking you were an angel. Isn't that in your job description?" Girda: "I am no angel." Iskendriel: "Right, right. The glowing, divine light must have given me the wrong impression." Girda now looks miffed and Iskendriel experiences a perverse glee at finally angering even this bastion of patience and virtue. Nyneve: "Well, it seems we're not going to find any clues out here. The settlement ruins might give us better clues. The threads might be clearer there. And the... what? Spiritual residue might be fresher?" Girda: "In a sense, I suppose that sounds right..." Nyneve: "Gross." Girda: "Perhaps the good doctor has uncovered some information from his magicks." Iskendriel starts to lead the group back towards the destroyed Imperium settlement. Iskendriel: "Whatever he is, Lawrence Carroll is definitely not good." Girda: "I suspect none of us are..." Iskendriel gives Girda a frown. She knows Girda isn't really an angel but she had been under the impression that she was, at least, part angel and she's certainly in the service of a god. She wears the black and white habit of a nun, complete with a black coif that covers her hair. Under the robe, however, she has trousers and heavy boots meant from walking. This is a very specific kind of nun. The kind of nun whose prayers are said after bashing skulls. Perhaps Girda doesn't see that her role as divine punisher is supposed to be an act of charity. Dusty floats on ahead after Nyneve, who has taken it upon herself to take the lead. Rab'ia has been left with Dr Carroll in the town of Kildare. Iskendriel: "If said doctor would actually get his legs cured then he could be out here with us, doing the real work! I swear he stays in that chair just to avoid doing the heavy lifting." Girda snaps an angry frown at Iskendriel. Girda: "This attitude of yours makes you look like a fool, you know that?" Iskendriel: "Funny, I thought it was making everyone else look like fools." Girda: "You mouth off about things you don't know anything about. I am not an angel and Dr Carroll is unable to be cured. Whatever files you've read about us are evidently incomplete. You should know your facts before trying to insult us." Girda stomps off ahead and Iskendriel talks loudly after her; Iskendriel: "I don't care what kind of half-breed you are, you're some daft sparkling angel thing to me. And Dr Wheelchair doesn't need you to fight his battles for him." Girda glances back; Girda: "He shouldn't have to battle you." Iskendriel just shrugs but inwardly she knows that's true. But that is who she is. If they want in this team they'll just have to lump it. References Tales from The Imperium Category:Post Category:Tales Post